A Fissure in Time
by Allisha Shelly
Summary: Meg Murry is a twelve year old girl. She goes to a used book sale and byes an old fashioned diary. She later realized that the diary is a time portal. She then joins Mo Atkinson and Jade McCarthy to seal a time fissure that destroying time and history.
1. Chapter 1

Chapter 1

I was baking under the hot sun. The sweltering feeling gave me even more motivation to bike to the air conditioned library. I pedaled down the endless cement sidewalk, the trip to the library's used book sale seemed like it took forever. Oh, how I wished there was some shade.

I wished Mum didn't have to go to the lab and take our _only car_. It would have been so much more convenient if she could have just driven me to the sale. I would've saved a lot more energy, sun burn, and sweat.

As I made my final turn and into the library parking lot, I almost collapsed and fall off my bike. I was so tired and hot and sweaty. I quickly pushed by rusty hand-me-down bicycle under the shade. It felt so good for the sun not be roasting my brown hair and sun-burnt shoulders. I slowly pushed my bike to the bike rack (I was so fortunate it was under a tall oak tree). I locked my bike against the metal poles of the rack. They were supposed to be green, but the old paint started to rust and rub off and it ended up looking like a pale lime color with accents of silver and orange.

I sprinted through the library doors and the air condition felt like freezing cold ice packs on my burning skin. I then rushed through the children's section and was about to make into the conference room where the used book sale was going on when I was stopped by the alarming and gruff voice of Mrs. Tuff, a cranky librarian who never seemed to get what she wanted.

"Hey, you there!" She called. I stopped and rolled and eyes. I turned to the short and chubby woman with my hands on my hips, an impatient expression on my face.

"No running in the library!" Mrs. Tuff barked. I realized she rose to the tips of her sandals as she yelled at me. I shrugged and simply nodded and stepped into the crowded conference room. The room's creamy yellow walls were covered with bookshelves and shelving carts. There were people everywhere, holding purses and wallets as they scanned the room to find the perfect book.

I looked around the conference room and acted like a blind man seeing the sun for the first time. There was so much variety to choose from. As I walked through the shelves and carts, I heard somebody call my name.

"Meg, Meg Murry! Meg, Meg Murry!" It was a man's voice. It was really sandy and ruff, and the tone of the voice was urgent. It seemed to have come from behind me. I spun around, and saw nobody calling my name or staring at me.

"Strange," I muttered to myself quietly. I continued scanning the books, and I heard my name being called again, this time the voice was louder.

"Meg! Meg!" The voice was even more urgent and desperate. My breathing quickened and I turned around, spinning in several circles. I was so focused on finding the man who was calling for me that I bumped into a tall African American woman. The minute I made contact with the lady, her brown eyes narrowed on me. I tried to apologize, but it was like her eyes were holding my lips shut. Her mahogany pupils burned into mine, like she was trying to read my mind. But in seconds, her head snapped away from me and she acted like nothing had happened. I gasped quietly.

"What was that?" I whispered under my breath. As I edged toward the sci-fi section, the man's voice calling for me grew louder and louder. His voice seemed to flood my mind.

"Meg, Meg Murry! Meg, Meg Murry!"

I closed my eyes and squeezed them tightly, like I could shut out the words. But it didn't work. I winced, not because I was in pain, but because I felt a sudden tug on my wrist. Was someone pulling me away? I quickly opened my eyes, and nobody was there. Nobody touched me, nobody even noticed me (except for that strange woman). I looked around; making sure that nobody had come into contact with me.

"Meg, Meg Murry! Meg!"

I growled quietly. Why couldn't that voice just shut up?

"Meg! Meg!"

Then, everything happened quickly. I felt something, something warm. I wasn't sure whether it was my hand or if it was simply the warm air escaping through the large glass windows. The warm thing touched my neck. But after it simply poked me in the back of my sweaty neck, it grabbed me, grabbed my shirt collar. It pulled me back, and I almost slammed into a mahogany bookshelf. But when I was just inches away from hitting all the hard covers and paperbacks and having them fall on me, I was stopped. I shook my head, and tried to get everything straight. My memory for the past couple seconds seemed like a blur of actions and events. But before I could process anything else in my mind, I felt something light in my hands.

Very slowly, I lifted up my right hand, and gripped tightly in my sweaty fingers was…a diary, an old fashioned, black and gold, leather diary. The first thoughts that popped into my head was _how did this diary get into my hands_, but before I could start questioning my already confused brain, I opened the book and leafed quickly through the flimsy, old pages. The rough edges of the parchment paper hurt the tender skin of my fingertips. When I made it to the end and was facing the black leather back cover, I was left in surprise. There was nothing written in the diary, not a single sentence, word, or mark. The pages were blank. I flipped through the pages again, this time slowly, making sure I got a good glance at every page to make sure I didn't miss anything.

I found absolutely nothing besides blank pages…until I got to the very beginning again. In the top left hand corner, was something written. It looked like it was written a long time ago, with a quill and ink. What was written…was my name: Meg Murry.


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter 2

I darted down the sidewalk. My bicycle squeaked as I violently pedaled downhill into my neighborhood. The diary was bouncing up and down inside the medal basket attached to my bike as I made sharp turns and bounced over potholes.

I turned suddenly onto my driveway, almost hitting my brother Dennys. He was dressed in a loose, white t-shirt and ankle socks. He was pouring water down his back. I could tell he just came back from an afternoon jog. I squeezed my breaks as if I was making lemonade and I almost fell forward when my bike stopped; the wheels digging into the hot cement of the driveway.

"Bit warm right now?" I asked Dennys. The side of him face that was in the sun seemed glossed and shiny from sweat. He dripped the last drops of water onto his neck, and he shook his wet blonde hair, sending little specks of water everywhere.

"I'm boiling, Meg!" He said breathlessly. I slipped in front of my bicycle basket, secretly hiding my diary under my long, loose red t-shirt. I couldn't let Dennys find out I had a diary. Writing in diaries, especially old fashioned leather ones, was considered geeky…very geeky.

When I dashed into the study, I was face to face with Charles Wallace, my eyes in his large brown ones. He sat on a small wooden chair peacefully and silently. I could tell he wanted to be left alone.

Quickly backing out the study door, the diary clutched in my hands, I locked myself in my bedroom. I dropped the diary on my pillow on my bed, and I pulled open the curtains and opened the windows, hoping to catch a breeze so I could be cooled down. The air in my bedroom was very stuffy and humid. I fell onto a chair, reaching for my diary on my bed with my long arms.

I dragged the wooden chair along the scratched hardwood floor to my desk. I pushed some paper balls and empty cardboard boxes aside and scrambled for a writing utensil. I picked up a dull pencil, and beads of sweat developed on the back of my neck. The hair stuck to the neck, making me even warmer than I already was.

I flipped to the first page of the diary, the one with my name on it. I didn't have much experience with diaries, but I knew you were supposed to write the date in the top left hand corner, and address a "letter" to the diary. Picking up the pencil, I turned to a blank page. 'Dear Diary,' I wrote slowly. I was trying to think of something to say. 'Today has been long and very hot. The scorching heat outside is driving me mad! Mad enough to think that some kind of diary would just show up in my hands out of nowhere.' The thought made me shudder. 'I am wondering if I was just hallucinating when I felt somebody grab my shirt collar and almost choke me to death. I hope my mind is still straight; I don't want to think I'm going crazy. But maybe I am, for that book sale was just…I dunno…abnormal. There was this lady who simply stared into my eyes, like she was reading my mind. It was super creepy; I don't even know how to explain.'

I paused, wondering if I should continue over the spooky subject of the lady. 'She was dark skinned, like an African American, and her hair was glossy, smooth, and silky. It was a dark brown and it was pulled back in a tight bun. Her eyes were very large and round, perfect circles. Her eyes were brown, like a milk chocolate brown. They could stare you down. The minute our pupils met felt like the entire world froze. The feeling is indescribable.' As I reread my entry, I felt like Mary Shelley. The entry seemed to feel like a horror story that was ready to haunt me forever. At the bottom of the page, I signed my name to make it look more like a letter than a diary entry. I messily scribbled the date at the top corner and closed the diary.

Before I escaped the hot, humid, and roasting bedroom, I slipped the diary under my pillow, to make sure Dennys or Sandy wouldn't find it and read my "private" stuff. I wanted to keep the diary secret, like how diaries were supposed to be. In books, diaries were supposed to be these little journals that people were able to write out their personal feelings, and nobody was supposed to find out. I guess my first entry wasn't really "personal," but I knew if I kept up writing diary entries that it would get personal very soon, especially if these odd events keep happening to me.

I checked to make sure the diary didn't make a large lump under my flat pillow, and closed my bedroom door. Before I could turn around, I felt a tap of my shoulder. Somebody was behind me. Quickly, I spun around to face the same tall, dark skinned, and large eyed lady I saw at the book sale. And once again, her brown eyes were staring into mine…


	3. Chapter 3

Chapter 3

I was about to open my mouth and ask who the hell the lady was, but her thin, boney hand covered my mouth.

"Shhh, say nothing. I have to go now, but meet me and my friend at Frank's Chips Shop," She whispered. She finally ripped her eyes off me and sprinted toward the door. I followed quickly behind her, but before I could ask any questions just to get my mind straight, she leaped out of the front door and slammed it shut.

"Frank's Chips Shop," I muttered under my breath. I was stunned with my actions. I opened the door and was on my bike and pedaling toward town before I even knew it. I rode at great speed down the steep slope down into the part of town where all the restaurants were, including Frank's Chip Shop. I watched as people wearing sunglasses and under umbrellas ate or drank. Some chewed loudly while others simply nibbled in tiny bites. The broiling heat on my back was felt like somebody was ironing my skin. I still hadn't learned my lesson of not riding your bicycle around noon when the sun was high.

When I saw the small brick building of the chips shop, I hopped off my bicycle. I gently leaned it next to a brick. I burst into the door. The air inside the restaurant was hot and stuffy, like the tropics. A bell dinged when I opened the door. To my surprise, a lot of people were nibbling on burgers and chips. There were bodies filling all the chairs and the sound of crunching and chewing could be heard everywhere.

I searched the room for the tall, dark skinned lady. She was hidden in a booth, and across from her was another person, but I couldn't see enough details of the body to make out any characteristics. I walked slowly to the booth. The smell of salty chips and flame broiled burgers made me hungry.

I slipped into the seat next to the man. He was wearing rather odd clothing: A leather jacket, a bow tie, and mismatching socks. He had a very square jaw and had a buzz cut, the shaved brown hair looked like a mowed lawn of brown grass. His face as turned to mine and a wide, friendly smile was on his face.

"Hello, Meg," He had a very noticeable Scottish accent. I interrupted him before he would continue.

"Who are you? How do you know my name?" I spoke so fast that I couldn't even understand myself. The smile on the man's face disappeared and he gently nudged a basket of ketchup covered chips toward me. The smell of oil, potatoes, and salt was pulling me in and I ended up shoving chips into my mouth in handfuls.

"Meg, I've known you before you were even born. I've seen your first steps, I've heard your first word," I stopped eating aggressively so I could listen. I wiped the grease and salt off my lips with my wrist.

"You didn't answer my question, 'whoever you are.' Who are you and how do you know my name? And just to add on, how did even know me before I was ever born? How did you know Meg Murry even existed in the word before I ever entered this very world?" I sounded a bit harsher than I had intended. I hoped I didn't offend him.

"Meg, Meg, calm down. I'm Morpheus Atkinson, but I would prefer you call me Mo. This is Jade McCarthy, she is my assistant traveler," He gestured toward the tall lady, now I knew she was called Jade. Jade smiled and waved at me. I waved back, but my smile probably didn't look as genuine as I wanted it to. Mo grabbed my hand and shook it (more like yanked it) aggressively. I couldn't feel my hand when he stopped shaking.

"Meg, if I tell you the truth"-he swallowed hard-"will you promise to believe me?" His happy, friendly face all of a sudden turned serious, revealing his cleft chin. I nodded slowly, reaching for a chip. I chewed on it slowly as he sighed.

"Margaret Murry, I'm a time traveler."


	4. Chapter 4

Chapter 4

Ok, so if you wanted me to start from the very beginning, I hope I do not lose you in my unbelievable story. But I am currently in the most bizarre, strange, but _amazing_ place you could have ever imagined. You'll find more about that place later.

Anyway, to start from the top, Mo started to question me whether I believed him or not, and whether I trusted him or not. For several seconds, after I found out the 'truth' that Mo was a time traveler, my mind practically stopped. I simply sat in my position like a stone statue for what seemed like forever.

The fact that I didn't move or talked drove Mo absolutely mad. I thought he was going to hit my head or kick my shin to awake me. I was absolutely stunned and shocked at the truth for a moment, a questioned Mo's statement. I knew that time traveling was just part of myths and thrilling science fiction stories, and for a moment, I doubted him and Jade. I thought that they were just playing a joke on me and thought I was am immature kindergartner (which some people consider my mind to be like, but I wasn't always _that _immature. I was just different from other people, the unique odd person out).

When my mind finally focused, I did the most unexpected thing.

"I believe you," I said.

Now, if I said that in front of a high school student, they would probably crack up and start calling me "immature and stupid." But I wasn't going to regret my decision. After all, when they realize _I _became a time traveler and all the other people in the world didn't, they wouldn't look up at me as an immature adolescent anymore. Instead, they would look at me as a hero or some kind of wizard of time.

Before Mo reacted at my words and jumped with delight (with a personality like his, he would more likely dance with joy), I questioned myself. I felt I was the chief detective or inspector, but at the same time, I was the suspect, waiting to be questioned and brought to court.

At first, when I was positive that Mo was telling the truth and this wasn't a lie, I thought I was doing the right thing. Besides, everybody knows the phrase "Anything is possible," only I doubt many people believes in that expression.

In my mind, I decided to make a T-chart. As expected, there were more points on the side "Why not to believe in Mo" rather on the opposite side. I wasn't surprised. But when Mo smiled and grabbed my hand (more like squeezed the blood out of my hands), I couldn't help but smile and stick with what I said and not change my mind.

Okay, so the rest of the story is a little bit complicated, maybe _really_ complicated. I hope I don't get you so confused that you get a migraine.

Mo pulled me out of my seat and towed me to the front door like he was the teacher taking me to the principal's office (I've been through that experience before). People stared at us, like Mo was putting me through child-abuse. I could feel about 30% of all the eyes in the restaurant glued to Mo. Maybe he had all the attention because of his outfit and buzz cut. Honestly, I'd do the same if I saw a guy in a leather jacket and bow tie with mismatching socks running through a restaurant with a 12 year old girl.

The scorching heat made me feel like I was Christmas turkey baking in the oven. I had no idea how Mo was able to make it through the weather in a jacket and long pants (and socks if I may). For a moment, I really did feel like I was being kidnapped and in my mind, I kept chanting "this was a really bad idea, this was a _really_ bad idea."

Mo and Jade pulled me into a telephone box. I stumbled into the little red box and almost broke the black telephone. I touched the handle of the phone, and it was burning, probably from the afternoon sun shining over it for hours.

"Who are you calling?" I asked. This was definitely not a time to call a salon and get a better hair style. Mo didn't answer, and instead took off his leather jacket, revealing twenty-something pockets inside it. Who would make a leather jacket that had so many pockets on the _inside?_ It looked ridiculous and would probably we very uncomfortable to wear, especially if you had 10 bags of jelly beans inside each pocket.

Jade looked worried.

"Mo, did you lose it?" She asked nervously. She helped search the vast array of pockets. As the two of them rummaged through the coat, I wondered, what did Jade mean by when she said "lost _it?_" I hated when adults kept secrets from us kids, actually pre-teens, and use phrases and words like "it" or "it's nothing" or "you wouldn't understand." It irritated me a lot, like a mosquito bite on my back.

"What are you looking…"

"Ah-ha!" Mo cut me off. He slipped his jacket back on and held a thin piece of paper in his hand. It was blue and the size of a train ticket. He handed it to me and I read the worn-off letters on the paper:

The Time Travel Connection

ID: Margret Murry

I gasped. Was this some sort of coupon? The Time Travel Connection? An ID card to the Time Travel Connection for _me_? This couldn't be happening.

"Are you joking? Is this stupid coupon even real?" I demanded. Mo gave Jade a look that this wasn't the reaction from me they had expected.

"It's not a joke, Meg and it's definitely not a stupid coupon. This is your ID card so you can get into the connection. Without it, they will just blast you out of the connection, and I literally mean blast, and you will be put into court because you 'tried to break into the connection without an authorized ID.'"

Mo sounded serious, and I surprisingly believed in him. I examined the card with every detail. It looked old and tattered. The words were fading away and there were creases in the card. On the back, there was a small circle. It was black and stuck out of the paper, like it was a button that was glued onto the ID card. It had a small, silver ring on the inside and in seconds, the ring flashed and there was a _click_.

"W-w-what was that?" I stammered. Mo laughed.

"The card is taking an ID picture. You would've looked better with your hair out of your face. I frowned and turned the card over. As I had expected, a small square with my face on it was next to the print, which had magically moved to the right.

Mo checked his watch and gasped quietly. Jade gave him a look, her expression unreadable.

"It's time to go," Mo said happily. My eyes widened and I stared at him in shock.

"Go? Go where?" I asked. The words spilled out my mouth so quickly I couldn't even understand them. Mo chuckled.

"To the connection of course! Oh yes, I'd advise you to put that ID card in a special place so it won't be lost, but a secure pocket in your pants is probably the best you can manage for now,"

I stuffed the card into the back pocket of my shorts. We were going to the connection? My first thought was what the connection was how we were going to get there. After all, we were in a telephone box. I watched Mo's actions carefully. He picked up the phone and dialed a number. 20203. That was not a valid phone number. I stepped on my tip-toes and leaned my ear gently against the warm phone. I heard a dial tone and a lady picked up.

"Hello, this is the Time Travel Connection. Please say your name and wave your ID over this phone."

"Morpheus Atkinson," Mo said and set the phone into my hands and flashed me a look that meant he didn't want me to do anything with it.

Mo murmured something to Jade and he took off his jackets. _Not the whole pocket scenario again._ I thought to myself. _What could they possibly look for now? There was some lady on the other line of the phone!_

Mo and Jade scrambled desperately through the pockets. After a couple seconds of patient waiting, Jade pulled a blue card, similar to mine, out of one of the lower pocket. She quickly shoved it into Mo's uncoordinated fingers. He yanked the phone out of my hands, which was rather rude, but I didn't say anything.

Mo waved the ID card over the receiver and I heard a beep and the woman on the other line say "ID accepted. Hang on; this is going to be a bumpy ride." Mo hung up.

"What? What does she mean hang on?" I asked. Jade and Mo's bodies were pressed against the walls of the telephone box. I had a feeling I needed to do the same. I pressed my back against the wall and extended my arms so I was like a human 5 pointed star.

"Be prepared, Meg." Jade whispered. Suddenly, the telephone box jolted. My head jolted with it.

"What's happening?" I asked. I kept my body in the same position. Mo and Jade stayed silent and I could see their bodies relaxing a bit. The telephone box jerked right and then jolted right. And before I knew, I turned my head. I peered through the glass windows and almost screamed. We were in the air, above the entire town. It felt like I was in a hot air balloon as we drifted upwards, the houses and people getting smaller and smaller, like dolls and toys.

I turned around and knelt down, looking at the town. The houses looked like squares the size of crackers and the tress were little green circles. The people were little moving dots. It looked a bit funny, like I was playing doll house. Jade cleared her throat and I turned.

"Er, Meg, I wouldn't advise you be in that position right now," She said in an uneasy voice.

"Why?" I asked. But before Jade could answer, the telephone box jolted again, but this time I slid and hit the wall. Pain shot up my spine.

"Ow," I moaned, but everything just got worse. The telephone box shot into the air and was sucked into some kind of vortex/portal that simply appeared magically in the sky. The telephone box shot up higher and higher into the sky. We soared into the sky in a vertical and steep angle. I couldn't get up; I had to stay in the crouched position against the wall. There was so much pressure on my face; I had a hard time breathing. My eyes couldn't blink, so they stayed closed. I felt like somebody was pressing a metal board against my face, it didn't feel too pleasant.

My body stuck to the wall, the pressure keeping it in one uncomfortable position. Since my eyes were closed and the pressure on my body seemed to not all the senses of my mind, I had no clue what was going on. I had no clue what was going on outside, what Mo and Jade were doing and if they felt the same pressure I felt. I wondered if we were in space or not.

Suddenly, the telephone box stopped moving. I shot forward and landed in front of Mo's feet. It felt so good to breathe again and the pressure to be lifted off my face. I took deep breaths, trying to inhale as much oxygen as I could.

I sat up and I saw Mo and Jade were also knocked over. They were on their knees and panting like I was, gasping for air. I fell back against the wall, and found a purplish spot developing on my forearm, a huge bruise.

"Meg, are you okay?" Mo asked. I hadn't realized he had gotten on his feet. He recovered from that wild ride quickly. He held out a hand and he pulled me up. I was dizzy and my knees felt like water. Jade smiled at me.

"I'm sure you feel really queasy and disoriented right now. I felt the same on my first trip to the connection too." Jade's voice was soothing and made me feel better. For a strange reason, the windows were all of a sudden clouded. I couldn't see outside.

Mo opened the door to the telephone box and held it open for Jade and I to walk through. When I stepped out of the telephone box, my jaw dropped, and I stared in amazement. For a second, I really did think I was in some sort of dream.


End file.
